


Let's Finally Have This Conversation

by collapsingStars



Series: Soft Goro Week 2020 [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Comfort Coffee, Comfort Food, Day Two: Coffee and Sweets, Fix-It of Sorts, Fixing Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Futago Siblings, Goro Akechi's Paranoia, He's sad and angry royal goro and then he's happy at the end, Hurt/Comfort, Look I know it looks not soft, Mentions of Haru poisoning/shooting/etc. Goro, Persona 5 Royal - Freeform, SoftGoroWeek2020, and it's kind of not but see notes, she's so sweet to him tho, shido is mentioned as is CEO okumura, working through trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collapsingStars/pseuds/collapsingStars
Summary: "That is a conversation I would like to have, and why I’m here. Would you join me?" Haru swung open the door of the limo, inviting him inside.Soft Goro Week 2020 Day Two: Coffee and Sweets
Series: Soft Goro Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837177
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63
Collections: Day 2 - Coffee and Sweets, Quality Persona Fics





	Let's Finally Have This Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a past hurt/comfort sort of fic than it is soft! Goro is wary of Haru and treats her with paranoia before there is comfort. Originally this was a sweet fic about Goro working at Haru's cafe. However it wasn't going where I wanted it to because I kept having to write background about the conversation they must have had in order to get there in the first place. So I decided to focus there instead. There are probably a hundred (I haven't look) versions of how Haru would or wouldn't forgive Akechi, along with a million and one different opinions on the matter. 
> 
> Well, if there isn't a happy ending, I'm not interested. So let's have a real conversation. Let's have a happy ending. (With sweets and coffee involved of course.)

It was a pretty evening. Sure. But Goro was headed to work. So it really didn’t matter whether it was raining, or rainbows, or the current red-streaked sunset. A few other employees would comment how lucky he must be, to see the sunrise and the sunset everyday. They were idiots; the changing of the guard from night to day added nothing magical to life outside of literature. They never lasted long anyway, since the Tokyo skyline tended to swallow the sun long before it actually set.

All the magic he needed in life was cheap, bitter, black coffee and cynicism. 

Goro chucked the rest of his starbucks back and dumped the cup into a trash can as he turned onto a mainstreet. Currently he worked as an overnight janitor for some big wig company that worked with information. He hated it. But it was a good way to continue to keep from the prying eyes of Shido’s last conspirators and keep an ear on them as well. A ponytail, baseball cap, and a mop in his hand, and no one knew who he was after being released for parole. Nor could identify that he was the one giving key pieces of evidence to the media to continue to crumple the conspiracy. 

However, nearly everyone was behind bars. Goro was running out of things to do, and afterwards he really would just be some low-life who only knew how to push around a mop. He wasn’t sure where to go from there. 

Caught in his head, Goro failed to notice the black stretch limo creeping up behind him until it’s tail end was parallel to his path and slowed to match his walking pace. He glanced to the side without lifting his head from the sidewalk, and heard the window roll down.

"Hello,” said a sweet voice, light as cotton candy. Just as sticky. He wouldn’t forget her as long as he lived. 

Goro ignored her and kept walking. As far as Haru Okumura should be concerned, Goro was dead. Twice over, in fact. He wondered why she would go out of her way to track him down (and how often Okumura had done this to people; the limo driver was really good at matching walking pace.) 

“Your hair has gotten so long. How long has it been since you’ve cut it?” She asked, trying to be nice, surely to bait him. The Haru from years ago didn’t have a mean bone in her body, but the Haru from now was still the CEO of Okumura Foods. Her resolve must be absolute, and Goro was suspicious of why it was now aimed at him. 

"Are you going to talk to me,” she continued despite Goro’s lack of response, “Or pretend like there isn't an annoying limo following you this close to central Shibuya?" Goro could just make out the edges of her sweet, surely venomous, smile. 

He stayed silent. Maybe she would go away by refusing to entertain her. Maybe she would shoot him dead right here, making sure he can’t escape death a third time by dealing it herself. 

"You're going to piss off all the other pedestrians when you get to the street mall you know." She continued to lean on her window, watching Goro walk, resolution shining in her eyes. 

"That’s the goal. You can't follow me there." Goro responded, unable to resist the urge to have some sort of upper-hand. 

“Oh, I’m sure I can.” She lifted her head, satisfied. “I have that kind of sway you know. I’ll just say it was for publicity by sticking my head out the window, and I’ll be forgiven.” 

"That’s an abuse of power, Okumura.” Goro stated. 

"You know I’d prefer not to. But I've learned by now, with this much money to throw around, if it's for a good cause, I can apologize later." She shrugged, clearly discontent but aware of her status within the public and company eye. 

"It's that kind of thinking that got your father in trouble you know." Goro replied. 

"I'm well aware; I don’t ever plan on becoming like my father. I have some very good friends that help me stay on the straight and narrow.” She smiled again. 

Goro snorted. “Straight and narrow… but you’re fucking the cop, right?” Goro said, intentionally trying to be rude. 

"Makoto? Well yes, but what’s that - oh." Okumura giggled, catching onto the joke. "Very funny Akechi." 

"Whose Akechi? That's not my name." Goro replied and finally stopped walking to look at Okumura. Goro had watched her rise in publicity as she took over her father’s company. She had nearly been idolized for her cute demeanor and aesthetic from high school. But that had clearly been shed to be viewed in a more professional light. Her hair was tied back into a fluffy ball that sat on the back of her head, and sweaters traded for black business suits. The collared shirt underneath was pink, however. And Akechi couldn’t deny the sheer backbone and fire that shone behind her eyes. Still Noir, through and through. 

"Ah, my apologies. I suppose it's unofficially Jou Yakumo, right now isn't it? And before Takio Sumida? Futaba has been keeping track, though she just calls you Tokyo's Great Starbucks Cryptid the most." 

"That’s a lot of work to remember the names of a man you’d prefer dead. Why bother?” Goro bristled at the implication that he was being tracked by the Phantom Thieves. And he knew, he knew, he had been pushing his luck by remaining in Tokyo, but he didn’t think they would bother to actually go looking for him. 

"That is a conversation I would like to have, and why I’m here. Would you join me?" Haru swung open the door of the limo, inviting him inside. Goro shook his head. 

"I'm not getting in the car. Why else would you and Futaba track me down except to murder me?" Goro stated his suspicions. She would have to reveal it right now and come after him if she wanted a shot. 

"Because we're NOT you Goro, we've actually worked through our trauma.” She rolled her eyes at Goro’s paranoia. “Besides, my best friend would murder us for murdering you, and that's not a very pretty picture for Akira is it?" She smiled at him, twisting the knife into Goro’s heart. 

"It'd give Kitagawa an interesting challenge." Okumura was determined to win, huh? Even at his driest and most uninterested responses, he wasn’t going to be able to avoid this interaction anymore. 

"Get in the car Goro." Okumura slid over, and Goro reluctantly followed. There wasn’t a single thought spared toward the fact that he was going to end up being really late for work. 

* * *

Conveniently, Haru had received a call as soon as Goro had sat down beside her. The limo seats were more comfortable than his own bed. She gave a quick apology as she signaled the limo driver to speed up and they sped away from Shibuya. It gave Goro more chance to observe the way Okumura conducted herself, as she spoke numbers with whoever was on the other line. Her sweet character shone through every syllable, but there was no mistaking that she was the one in charge. At one point there was a disagreement, and she went dead silent. After a few beats, the voice on the other end of the line started to babble. Excuses, trying to offer solutions and save his own interests, Goro identified. This seemed to placate Haru enough to agree to discuss the matter further. 

What an odd creature Haru had become. Every part herself that he recognized, but with an edge of determination that could only come from someone as power hungry as her father had been. Goro wondered what would have happened if instead of grooming Haru to sell her, he had groomed her to take over Okumura Foods. If a previous version of Goro would have been under her employ. 

The thought gave Goro chills.

And then she looked at him. Goro jolted back a bit, realizing that staring might have been inappropriate.

“Sorry about that.” She said, interrupting his train of thought. “I can’t ever put my phone on silent, or I’ll miss something vital and never live it down.” She gave a small sigh and let her shoulders relax. 

“I can sympathize.” Goro found himself saying. “I wasn’t allowed to miss a single call, um, back then,” he cut himself off. 

“Hmmm. Is your life quiet now?” She asked him. 

“I ...guess.” Goro said carefully. “I keep to myself.” 

“Aside from lurking around bad coffee chains, and a few particular journalists that like talking to you in bars?” Her eyebrow was raised, and a small smile played on her lips. 

“Ah - yes. I suppose there is nothing I can hide from you.” 

“You know how Futaba is,” Haru laughed. “Once she sets her mind to it, there’s no one's information she can’t dig up. You weren’t very hard, to be fair, having a criminal record now.”

“Why would she want to unbury my dead body?” Goro said with no humor. He really didn’t get it. Wouldn’t they feel better never thinking about their parents’ murderer ever again? Especially after the special hell they’d been placed under working with him again in Maruki’s reality. 

“I don’t think it’d be right for me to say for her.” Haru said, before she opened the door and exited the limo, holding the door open for him. He glanced up as he followed behind her, observing the pretty brown lettering of the sign above the establishment: Noir Cafe. The reviews boasted it was flavorful and quaint, and promised patrons they’d never have a complaint. He believed that Haru could pull off something like that. 

“Does it have to do with the fact my father was a whore?” Goro dropped unceremoniously as she pulled out keys and rattled the glass doors open. 

“That may have something to do with it.” Haru supplied. “So you must have known Futaba was your half-sister?” 

“Yes.” The cafe was dark, clearly having been closed for the evening. She moved to the back, and pointed a finger at a bar stool as she moved behind the counter. “Her, and five others. Three in Tokyo, one in Hong Kong, and one in America.” Goro sat where Okumura pointed. 

“That’s quite a few. Have you ever met any of them?” Haru asked. She started flipping switches and the cafe came to life. Her face softened, apron on. The hard business Haru gone, phone noticeably flipped over. Silenced. Completely relaxed as the smell of coffee began to work it’s way through the empty cafe. 

“Other than Futaba? No. I know enough that they are doing well and they exist. That’s all.” Goro said. 

“That’s good then.” Haru responded, and then the conversation died. Neither party seemed eager to initiate what was really bothering both of them, letting the elephant in the room continue to exist unaddressed. Haru had her hands full - she juggled the french press, and kept checking the back. It left Goro to sway back and forth on his stool as night finally closed around the dim little light of the cafe. 

What good could possibly come of this? Goro kept thinking. 

A mug was placed in front of him, along with a small plate with what looked like a small mountain of frosting covered in powdered sugar. 

“Here.” Haru said. “I know my cup is still not as good as Akira’s or Sojiro’s but, well, practice makes perfect.” 

Goro sat in silence, unsure how to digest the gesture. He had figured if Haru came after him, it would be with hired guns blazing, or a personal axe. He had forgotten that with unquestioned access to a kitchen, and his own fool self for believing her words meant that she might not really desire his blood, that she could easily poison him. And he hadn’t even been paying attention. He was getting slow. 

“It’s not poisoned, I promise.” Haru said kindly, moving to sit across from him. “It’s just a regular black Kona, the kind that’s at Leblanc, and a Mont Blanc. It’s a hazelnut pastry. The sweet, nutty, and bitter flavors compliment each other.” 

“I don’t get it.” Goro said. 

“Oh, I just thought you might appreciate a little gourmet treat.” Haru responded. 

“No. I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me! Why do you even want to talk to me?! Why would you bother to find me at all!” Goro threw his baseball cap on the ground and buried his face in his hands. “Please Okumura! I’m beggin you! Just get it over with. Kill me, tear me a new one, whatever you want for your pathetic desire for closure and let me leave. You don’t have to pretend.” 

Hair stayed silent for a moment, before she pushed the cup under Goro’s nose. 

“I told you already Akechi Goro. I worked through my trauma, and received my closure a long time ago.” Haru said softly. “My father was his own man that made his own choices. He chose to hurt people, including me, you, and anyone else he thought would make him happier. I fought with myself for the longest time, went over an unspeakable number of scenarios, of choices, I could have made, that might have changed who he was or kept him alive. 

“But no choice, supernatural or small, would have given me the father I wanted Goro. I know that now. I had lost him, before either he or I knew there was something to lose. Our changing his heart, and his death, don’t matter. His choices wrought his own consequences, and he would leave me to pay for them, one way or another.” 

Goro sat back to stare hard at Haru’s face. Haru’s eyes didn’t water, despite the sorrow trapped behind her eyes and the leaking in her words. Hands were clasped in front of her, staring back at him. He wondered what it was she saw in his own face? 

“Then what has this got to do with me?” Goro asked softly, taking the cup, and holding its warmth between his hands. It felt good on his bare skin, scrubbed rough and bones weary from sleeping during the day. 

“Do you regret murdering my father Goro?” She asked. 

“No.” Goro said quietly, and let it rest between them as he sipped at the coffee she offered him. 

It was… the best coffee he’d had in years. He closed his eyes as the full body of the coffee filled his own, rich flavor pushing comfort through his bones. Unwillingly he relaxed. In his mind's eye Leblanc came into focus, tucked on his stool, trading quips and chess pieces with Akira, hands warm from cooking covering his own, and his bones sagging into the one place that he dared feel at home. 

He opened his eyes to see Haru’s cafe, and set the cup down. “It’s excellent.” He said, clearing his throat to prevent his voice from cracking. 

She smiled at him, and began to move again, reaching for the pitcher where she had more waiting for him. “Oh good! I’m glad.” 

“I’m sure you were expecting a different answer.” He reached for the sweet, carefully balancing the frosting on his fork. 

“Not really.” She said. She refilled his cup and he took a bite of the treat. She was right - after the bitter of the Kona coffee, the nutty hazelnut balanced the flavors on his tongue, revealing both of their strong and fulfilling flavor profiles. 

“Not really?” He parroted back. 

“I can’t pretend to know what your reasoning is. But for me, it’s easier to think that you don’t regret it because you’ve made peace with your past too.” Haru said. “That everyone whose lives were toyed with because of the selfish actions of others gets to move on. Including you.” 

Goro gave it a minute before he spoke. “I’m… I guess that’s my end goal. Eventually.” Goro’s small treat was gone, and Haru replaced it with another, and a full cup. 

She moved around the counter, and sat down beside him. He kept facing the kitchen even as she moved her small hand tentatively toward him. It hovered a moment before he turned and her reach placed his face in her palm. He closed his eyes, afraid of what she might read there. 

“You really want to know why I wanted to have this conversation today?” Haru said. 

“Why?” He asked. A well manicured thumb soothed itself back and forth under his eye and over his cheekbone. 

“Dumb luck. I happened to be driving past you, and I. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but you looked so tired Goro.” 

“I am always tired.” Goro admitted. He was so very, very tired, and Haru’s gentle touch had reached into his mind and heart and wrapped them in fuzziness. 

“So I thought, the least I could do was give you real coffee. A little something sweet. And to let you know you’ve got people, who want you back. Whenever you’re ready.” 

He didn’t say anything. His bones disconnected from his body and refused to reshape him into anything other than the hunched over, lonely, tired, touch-starved man he’d become. But there was a small spark settled behind his heart, a bit of hope, a glimpse of his future. Haru had removed the cup and plate so it wasn’t in his way as his heavy head buried itself in his arms. Her hands moved from face to gently soothe over his hair. His mind quieted and absorbed the contact, the unspoken trust, the allowance of peace, as they sat there letting the night wear itself on. 

“Your hair really has gotten so long. Do you like it?” Haru asked. 

“Hmmm, yes.” Goro said, lifting himself out of his daze. “It’s easier to keep out of the way.” 

“It looks good on you.” 

“Thank you.” He smiled at her, and her beam back was positively brilliant.

“Would you like to eat something a little sturdier? I have some crepe entree options I’d like your opinion on.” She moved herself from her stool, already moving toward the fridge. 

“Of course, I would love that.” Goro’s rationale screamed at the back of his mind that there wasn’t any way this was real. That Haru Okumura had forgiven him. That Akira was waiting for him. That he was still just sleeping and any moment the alarm would wake him for work. 

But as he and Haru shared sweets and coffee into the night, he let it fizzle out to make place for happiness, and a smile he hadn't worn since high school. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Links! Come Fine Me! (〃ﾉωﾉ)  
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